


the fourth time they had ever kissed

by bagelauthor



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Martim Week 2021 (The Magnus Archives), Martim week: first time, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagelauthor/pseuds/bagelauthor
Summary: And as their feelings gradually progressed, their inhibitions lowered more and more. They laughed like idiots when they first kissed, embarrassed and red, but the next time they tried, there were no giggles, just soft sighs and shaking hands cupping the others face and love. And the third time they had ever kissed, when Tim put his hand on Martin’s waist, it just made sense. Martin leaned into Tim, into his lips, into the hand shaking but sure on his side. He breathed him in, took in every last inch of his lover because he was all that ever mattered, and with his lips hot against his, it all made sense.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44
Collections: Martim Week 2021





	the fourth time they had ever kissed

**Author's Note:**

> yeah okay yes i technically uploaded this past midnight... :( but HEY FIRST DAY OF MARTIM WEEK 2021 BABY!!!!!!!!!!! i'm gonna try and write every single day of MarTim week!! this should be fun, i love this pairing <3
> 
> also this is only my second ever time writing smut so if you have any constructive critisim do let me know!! or just comments in general, they feed me

When you’re this much in love, it all makes sense.

The pieces snap into place, and as the puzzle is worked on, beautiful pictures start to emerge. Paragraphs turn into sentences turn into glances - you know exactly how someone’s heart is burning just from the angle of their eyes, from the shape of their lips. You don’t need to ask - you just know. Martin knows just how Tim likes his tea (early gray, lots of milk, and a bit of sugar), and Tim can guess Martin’s mood just based on the sweater he’s wearing (there’s this baby blue one that he knows Martin loves - he reserves it for the days he wakes up feeling good). Two timelines slowly started to merge into one, and the little details never went unnoticed. Slowly, without either one of them noticing, their lives became intertwined. And slowly, ever since that first dinner together, they fell in love.

And as their feelings gradually progressed, their inhibitions lowered more and more. They laughed like idiots when they first kissed, embarrassed and red, but the next time they tried, there were no giggles, just soft sighs and shaking hands cupping the others face and love. And the third time they had ever kissed, when Tim put his hand on Martin’s waist, it just made sense. Martin leaned into Tim, into his lips, into the hand shaking but sure on his side. He breathed him in, took in every last inch of his lover because he was all that ever mattered, and with his lips hot against his, it all made sense.

The fourth time they had ever kissed, Tim pressed Martin against his kitchen wall, careful, but firm. Martin whimpered at the sudden sensuality of it all, the sudden lack of anywhere to go except directly onto Tim (not he’d want to be anywhere else in the world right now). Tim held one hand on Martin’s cheek, the other pressed against the wall, trapping him in. Martin was a few inches taller, so he had to lean up just a bit to kiss him, but he still found delight in the way the other was melting into him, the way that he still had the upper hand here. The way that he was the one making Martin shiver under his touch. He kissed him harder this time, and Martin whimpered, the sweetest poem of his that Tim had ever heard. He needed to know how pretty those sounds got. He needed to know every last poem that Martin could make for him, hidden under his baby blue sweater.

Tim grabbed Martin’s waist, just like he had done a few nights ago, and he gently pressed his fingers into the soft skin there, into the space just above his hip bone.

“Tim,” Martin sighed, high and breathy; beautiful.

“Mm,” Tim muttered, pulling back an inch. As pretty as Martin sounded, he wasn’t quite sure of the tone in his voice. “That okay?”

“Yeah,” Martin answered, embarrassingly quick, his eyes glossy.

“Good,” Tim replied, grinning, wasting no time in moving right back in to kiss him again. Martin sighed into him, his exhale turning up into a sharp whimper when Tim buried his fingers harder into Martin’s hips. The sound made Tim grin and tighten his grip as he moved even closer into Martin, their bodies pressed against each other, their heartbeats and held breaths intertwined. Martin wondered if Tim would leave a bruise. Martin wondered if he cared.

Tim kissed him harder, their lips crashing into one another. All that mattered was Martin and his breath, heavy on his, and the soft sounds he breathed out every time Tim adjusted his body ever so slightly. He wanted to know how riled up he could get him.

He wanted to know how loud he could make Martin Blackwood moan.

He rolled his hips slowly, carefully into Martin’s, his face reddening at the high pitched whine Martin made. So he did it again, and again, pulling away from Martin's lips so he could watch his face, suddenly red, not expecting this heat, this closeness, not expecting it to feel this good. Martin bucked his hips back up into Tim, the friction making him gasp. He brought his hands up to his face, covering himself. Tim took his hands from Martin’s hips, carefully moving away his lover’s hands, still rolling himself into Martin.

“C’mon- hah, pretty boy, don’t cover yourself up. I want to see you.”

Martin moaned at the praise, placing his shaking hands carefully on Tim’s hips. “Pretty boy,” Tim repeated, not even thinking about it. It just slipped out, his mind fogged with arousal and his whole body on fire. Martin whimpered again, a sound high in his throat, and he rolled himself faster into Tim, into the perfect friction.

“Oh, you like that?” Tim asked, grinning like a devil.

“Mhh,” Martin sighed. “Y-yeah,” he whispered, looking down, embarrassed.

Tim brought a hand up to Martin’s chin, guiding it back up to meet Tim’s gaze. With Tim’s free hand digging into his hip again, he ground harshly into Martin - “My pretty boy.”

Martin gasped, his eyes widening as a wave of heat shot through him. He closed his eyes, biting his lip, grinding back into Tim. After a moment, he brought his hands down to his pants, fiddling with the button there before it popped off. He sighed at the release of pressure, before his eyes shot open as he felt a cool hand on his stomach. 

“T-Tim-”

“That okay?”

Martin sucked a breath through his teeth before he answered. “...yeah. Yeah. Please.”

Tim laughed - not harsh or judging, just pure joy. “‘Please’. Such manners, even now.” He let his hand trail down Martin’s naval, carefully sliding his hand into the space in between Martin’s pants and his boxers. He slowly started palming Martin there, Martin giving a sigh in return, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. Tim moved in to pepper sweet kisses on Martin’s jawline, and Martin only leaned into it, leaned into the lips that had him so helpless like this. Tim kissed every inch he could reach - every curve, every freckle, every measure he could count. Just any excuse to kiss every part of him, all over again.

Once he had kissed all the way down to his collarbone, he pulled back, tugging at Martin’s shirt. It proved harder than he had thought to take off his lover’s shirt with just one hand, and Martin caught on to his struggle, taking it off for him.

“Thank you,” Tim smiled. He carefully removed his hand from Martin’s pants, which resulted in a whimper from the other, but then Tim got on his knees, and the sight of that alone was enough to make Martin lose his breath. Tim kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, all the way down his chest, to his stomach, down to the little stripe of hair on his naval.

Tim looked at the man in front of him, then up at his eyes. He wanted to do this. This made sense.

“Can I?” Tim asked, looking up at Martin.

It took a second for Martin to understand what Tim meant. But then it hit him, and all at once, a wave of excitement shot through him, all the way down to his dick, and he twitched at the thought of Tim Goddamn Stoker going down on him.

“Yes. Fuck. Please.”

“So polite,” Tim smiled, carefully dragging Martin’s pants and boxers down to his ankles, allowing himself a moment to take it all in. “Beautiful,” he sighed, and Martin moaned at the sound, his cock twitching with anticipation. Tim would have to explore that later, he thought. But for now, he just wanted to see how loud he could get Martin to be.

He carefully took the tip into his mouth, running his tongue over the head.

“Hah,” Martin half-moaned half-laughed, tailing off into a chuckle as he grabbed his hair in his hands, his eyes closing. “Shit, Tim. You know what you’re- oh god,” he gasped, as he felt his cock touch the back of Tim’s throat. He moaned breathlessly, trying his best not to face-fuck him right then and there. He still had to breathe.

After a long, long, moment, Tim pulled his lips back up to the base, sucking up and down, Martin only moaning in return. He moved his hands to Tim’s hair, carefully grabbing (but not too hard) some of Tim’s locks. Tim smiled as he licked up and down his cock, loving the way Martin squirmed under him, loving how loud he had made his lover. He did this to him - he turned him into a moaning, breathless wreck.

Martin grabbed fistfuls of Tim's hair, trying to pull himself off of him. “T-Tim, I’m gonna-”

Before Martin could finish his sentence, Tim swallowed as much of Martin's dick as he could, and Martin let out a sob as he came down Tim’s throat. Tim drank it all, smiling as he pulled himself off of Martin, wiping the last bit of cum off of his lips and licking it off of his finger.

“Shit,” Martin said, laughing. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, burying his hands in his hair. “Tim, I…” He trailed off and took a deep breath. “Wow.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim smiled, cheekily, as he stood back up.

Martin suddenly noticed how undressed he was and how clothed Tim was. He felt naked, and not really in a good way. He pulled his pants back up, and quickly scanned the room for his shirt before he found it on the floor next to him. He picked it up and put it back on, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath.

“Thank you, Tim. I really, really liked that.”

“You can have it again tomorrow night, if you want,” Tim said, kissing Martin before he could respond. Martin just sighed in response, kissing Tim back, feeling the bulge in Tim’s pants press against his leg. He moved his hips forward in response, blushing at the groan that came from Tim. Martin pulled back as much as he could, and Tim got the message, pulling back all the way so Martin could move.

“Do you want me to…?” Martin trailed off into silence, too embarrassed to actually say it, but his hands were more courageous than his mouth, and he pressed his finger softly to the tent in Tim’s pants.

Tim sighed, something clicking inside him. “Yeah. Fuck, Martin,” Tim said as he undid his pants and pulled his boxers down around his thighs, “won’t take long, you got me so hard looking that pretty...”

Martin only stared in awe for half a second before he wrapped his hand around Tim’s cock, slowly pumping up and down the length.

“Fuck, Martin, yeah,” Tim moaned, unonciously bucking his hips up into Martin’s palm. “Good, so good for me,” he mumbled, too on fire to phrase any good dirty talk. His mind was melting, and all he knew was Martin’s large, soft hand, Martin’s gaze on him, the taste of Martin still in his mouth and he’s going faster and-

“Fuuuuck,” Tim groaned as he came. His hands had somehow made it back to Martin’s hips, and he was holding onto them as his heartbeat steadied, as his breathing went back down to normal.

“Perfect,” Tim smiled, tired and glowing, as he leaned in and kissed Martin once on the lips, meaning every syllable of it.

Martin smiled and kissed him back before he pulled away, walking over to the sink and washing the cum off his hands. Tim snorted at the display, tugging his pants back up and holding them there as he walked over next to Martin, using a clean dish rag to wipe himself off before he pulled his pants all the way back up and buckled them. Martin grabbed some paper towels and dried his hands as Tim leaned over and repeated himself - “Perfect,” he whispered as he kissed the stubble on Martin’s cheek. Martin beamed, turning to face Tim.

“Was I really that good?”

“All that and then some,” Tim smiled, wrapped his arms around Martin, swaying him side to side gently, dancing with him to some unheard song. “Your hands are so soft and you… god, no offense, but I didn’t expect you to be as good at that as you were.”

Martin was only able to feign anger for half a moment before they both burst out laughing, covered in a cloud of joy and an afterglow that shone down on them like the sun. They hugged tightly, Tim placing a soft kiss to Martin’s jaw. They swayed together, sleepy, on Tim’s kitchen floor.

It just felt right, to do what they had just done. To hold each other that close, to love each other that deep.

It just made sense.


End file.
